


Patience Worn Thin

by mydeira



Series: Something Maybe 'Verse [12]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s tried, but Owen Harper is not a patient man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience Worn Thin

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: through “Random Shoes”
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I am neither RTD nor the BBC. This is purely for the exorcism of the big bad bunny that landed on my head.
> 
> A/N: Follows Someone’s Still Watching and takes place after the episode “Random Shoes.” This is the twelfth installment in the Something Maybe ‘Verse. Most of what we saw in the episode transpires pretty much the same way in my little ‘verse, but since so little did happen...

Gwen was never alone for a moment these days. If she wasn’t talking to Jack, she was having Tosh run diagnostics or search for something obscure. And on the rare occasions those two were absent, Ianto happened to be near by. Owen was starting to think Gwen did it on purpose.

It had been two weeks since he had been so shaken by the fact that Gwen had very nearly died in his arms and then almost walked out on him, that he had come close to telling her his feelings were no longer of a casual nature. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he had fallen in love with her. He didn’t do love. But he wasn’t satisfied being the man on the side, no matter how frequently she was in his bed. Regardless, he’d taken a chance on what he had assumed was a very sure thing and told Gwen to take some time to settle her old life.

Turned out he had been a fool. One of the many valid reasons he kept primarily to one-night stands.

Today, though, both Jack and Tosh were out in the field and Ianto was nowhere to be seen. Owen decided to take full advantage of the situation.

He found Gwen in the conference room, completely absorbed by the files spread out before her.

“I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me, Gwen,” he announced as he entered the room, taking too much pleasure from the fact that he managed to startle her.

Her focus shifted long enough to toss him a stern glare, then it was back to the files. Distractedly, she said, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been busy.”

“Busy, right,” he drawled, perching himself on the corner of the table right next to her. “Some people would call it obsessed.”

“A man died, Owen, I’m just trying to find out why,” she countered, her voice tight. She didn’t even glance at him. Her body language was fairly screaming, “Leave me alone.”

That wasn’t happening. He’d left her alone long enough. He was sick and tired of waiting for an answer. All his effort had gotten him was a bad mood. Not to mention the fact that he was horny as hell because he hadn’t had sex in the last two weeks. One’s own hand was only so satisfying. And every time he considered picking someone up from the bar, he ended up feeling guilty as hell for even considering it. Owen did guilt as much as he did love, which meant not at all.

It all added up to him spoiling for a fight. And who better to take things out on than the girl responsible.

He grabbed the file Gwen was currently perusing, flipping through it before tossing it aside. “All this concern for a man who even you didn’t care about when he was alive. It’s really pathetic. Maybe if you’d been the one to kill him, I could understand.”

Her jaw clenched, but otherwise she seemed unaffected as she retrieved the file. “Well, if someone had cared when he was alive, maybe he wouldn’t be dead now.”

Owen was still surprised by how incredibly naïve Gwen could be after months on this job. Most of the time, it amused him. Today, it only served to aggravate him further.

“And he might have died just the same. Shit happens, sweetheart. Deal with it and bloody move on,” he growled. The wounded look she gave him made him hesitate, but he forged ahead anyway. “You’re no better than the rest of us, Gwen Cooper. Made fun of him like everyone else. What you’re doing now won’t change that. Besides, the blighter’s dead and gone, not like he’s going to have a clue what you’re doing.”

Gwen opened her mouth to say something, then shut it, shaking her head. “If you’re going to be an insufferable prick, piss off.”

He had every right to be an insufferable prick and not intention whatsoever of pissing off.

“So, how’s old Rhys doing these days? Bet he’s just loving these long hours of yours,” Owen sneered.

Gwen grabbed hold of his shirt front and pulled him forward. He barely kept from falling over completely.

“You have something you want to say to me, Owen, say it.” Her words were ice cold. “But stop playing these fucking jealousy games with me. I don’t have time for it.”

Grabbing her wrist, he twisted her hand free of his shirt, but held onto her. “Don’t have time for much of anything these days, do you? Or anyone, for that matter. Except Eugene the loser.” He leaned close so he was almost nose to nose with her. “I wonder how Rhys would feel if he knew he was playing second fiddle to a dead bloke these days.”

“Let me go, Owen.” Her eyes were narrowed, dangerous.

God, she was breathtaking when she was angry.

“Or what, you’ll lump me up?” he taunted. “Feeling a bit aggressive, are we? All that tension building up and no outlet. No time for Rhys, and ghosts really aren’t the most satisfying of partners. That whole noncoporeal thing tends to get in the way. As for yours truly, it’s clear that I’m no longer a consideration. Too bad.” He finally released her and stood up.

“Believe it or not, some of us can survive not getting shagged on a regular basis,” she said tartly. “Sex isn’t everything, Owen.”

“You don’t say.”

She just shook her head at his sarcasm and turned back to the files, effectively dismissing him.

He wasn’t finished yet. “I gave you an out, Gwen. All you had to do was tell me.”

“Tried that, remember?” she said bitterly. “But you wouldn’t let me go.”

“Yeah, you tried real hard. Forgive me for not buying into it at the time,” he spat. And the part of him that wasn’t completely consumed by anger and hurt at the moment still didn’t buy it. There was something between them. He was certain of it, and he would wager she felt it as well. Had wagered, actually. But if she was too much of a goddamn coward, he wasn’t going to waste his time. He knew better, and yet… “Fuck it.” He headed for the door. “Since you seem to prefer dead boy’s company to mine, I’ll leave you to it, yeah?”

Owen walked away before she could respond. He was going out tonight. Maybe he’d look up that couple he’d used the pheromones on. They had been fun. Especially after the stuff had worn off. Turned out that picking up a third was a regular thing for them. No better way to forget his troubles than a night of debauchery.

And if there was a piece of him that felt like an utter shit for how he’d handled thing with Gwen, it was all the more reason to go out and tear up the town.


End file.
